Michael and the hairbrush
by Kajune
Summary: In which Dean ends up giving Michael's hair some good old combing.
**Title** : Michael and the hairbrush

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any of the Characters of Supernatural.

 **Genre** : General/Fluff

 **Warning** : Contains (minor) maleXmale content. OOCness.

 **Summary** : In which Dean ends up giving Michael's hair some good old combing.

* * *

 _Mysterious death of old woman. Body left mutilated. House locked from the inside._

 _Five girls found pregnant in the woods. Claim it was by a monster._

 _Patients at a local hospital discover strange bite marks on their legs. No reports of strange symptoms yet._

Dean scrolls down for more cases, finding himself uninterested with what he just read. It's not that he doesn't feel sorry for these people, but he'd rather do something a bit more simple, since having just emptied an entire vampire nest and nearly died if not for the two archangels on his side, Dean is in no mood for suicidal missions.

Since he is no mood for lazing around either, Sam's laptop is currently being used.

Dean hears a zipper being pulled but doesn't say anything.

When a very graphic photograph of a dead couple emerges on the screen, Dean chooses to say something to bite back the bile threatening to spill.

"Say, I thought Gabriel didn't want to help out with cases." He vividly remembers the time Gabriel stomped his foot at them, demanding no more prayers for assistance even if it was a life threatening situation. He didn't give a reason besides not wanting to help anymore.

"I told him he was being petulant," Michael says. "and since he was spending his free time annoying the Norse gods to such an extent I feared an all-out war."

Dean cringes. Sam did tell him once that Gabriel's identity as "Loki", was the bringer of the Norse version of the Apocalypse. It's been nearly two years, yet Dean still doesn't feel comfortable remembering their own Apocalypse. It would be a nightmare to have to have anything to do with another one.

"So you dragged his puny ass out to help us."

Pause. "That's a way of putting it."

Dean resists looking at what Michael is doing. Judging by the sound of it, he's digging through his duffel bag, something Castiel took an interest in doing when there was no work to be done. It doesn't make Dean feel happy that angels like searching through whatever personal items he has left, but he tries let it go when it's those who help him.

An image of a dog chopped to pieces puts Dean's mouth back to work.

"Well, seeing how he's hanging out with Sam now, I guess he's changed his mind."

Dean senses a smile coming from the bed.

"A big brother knows how to teach their younger brother a lesson."

Knowing how stubborn Gabriel can be, Dean fights the urge to imagine what Michael could possible have done. Instead, he takes a peek and catches Michael looking at a bar of toothpaste with an unnatural amount of fascination.

"Plus," Michael adds. "Gabriel admits to being fond of Samuel."

Somehow, that explains a lot to Dean. The private conversations, the many times Sam seems to know what Gabriel wants, likes and does when he's not around, and how recently, Sam has become a master at Norse mythology for reasons he could not explain, until now.

The explanation terrifies him more than the gruesome photographs.

Silence falls between Dean and the archangel, and Dean chooses to instead cough his way through a bad image instead of talking, in case Michael informs him of something that will literally make him lose his breakfast.

"Dean, what's this?"

Dean looks up to find Michael holding a really large hairbrush.

"Why is it like this?"

Dean assumes he means the odd shape of it, which is round instead of slim.

"I was in a desperate need for one, so I stormed into a store and grabbed the first hairbrush I could find." Dean sweeps through his hair a bit at the memory. "I got a lot of zombie goo in my hair."

It's Michael's turn to cringe.

The appearance of the hairbrush leaves Dean wondering why he kept it, because that particular case was over a year ago. If Sam finds it, he'll be laughing at Dean all the way until the next year for sure.

"Does it still have value?"

Dean ponders for a moment. Maybe the hairbrush is as useless to Dean as a torn up shirt, but it might not be for Michael. He's never seen an angel groom himself before, and thinks it's time Michael has a chance. According to Dean Winchester's Rules of Keeping Clean, any hair left untouched for too long is a mess.

Michael notices him approaching once he's half-way there. Dean takes the brush and swiftly combs Michael's hair flat in one stroke.

"How does that feel?"

The look on Michael's face can only be described as "awestruck".

"It's nice."

And with that, Dean begins combing.

Contrary to his own words, Michael's hair is perfectly soft. Maybe a few strands are out of place, there is no real style to the way the hair is kept, but to Dean's hand, every light auburn hair lock is as soft and touchable as one of Sam's childhood teddy bears.

He brushes anyway, gliding the ends of the brush in a straight line down the front, creating a fringe that nearly passes Michael's eyebrows. Deciding it makes Michael look too young, he brushes it all back, revealing the forehead.

Since the hair doesn't need much work, Dean lets himself 'play around', moves each strand in different directions until he's satisfied. A memory flash of how Michael looked wearing young John inspires Dean to copy the hairstyle. Focused on the memory, Dean bites his tongue and doesn't realize it until Michael shifts, that something is wrong.

"Michael."

"Huh...?" Michael's voice sounds groggy, like you'd hear from someone who just woke up, or nearly fell asleep, which is likely the case. Dean glances down and is met with half-lidded eyes. He tries to withhold a chuckle at the thought of having nearly put an archangel to sleep, simply by combing.

Michael doesn't react offended or embarrassed, so Dean deems him too relaxed to notice anything. His body continues to sway as Dean reaches for the back side, brushes until the hairs are flat on the skin. He nearly fails to catch Michael when he falls backwards, completely in a state of bliss.

As Michael blinks himself back into reality, Dean takes his time to study Michael's face. _Beautiful_ , is what he thinks.

"Dean."

"Yeah?"

"This is very inappropriate." He sounds uncomfortable.

"So?"

There's an almost predatory smile on Dean's face.

"Please put me down."

The hunter does, eventually, but it's two minutes later and Michael is left wondering why the hunter looked absolutely _hungry_ for his face. Dean marches back to the table, hell-bent on resuming his case search without revealing the redness in his cheeks.

* * *

 **Owari**


End file.
